


A Price to Pay

by nikki_routed



Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: M/M, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:00:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2218455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikki_routed/pseuds/nikki_routed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Jaejoong knows he is out of options but what if the only person who can help demands too high a price?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP started one year ago that I've shelved for a bit. 4 chapters so far and updates will probably be slow. Thanks and love as usual to my betas Cheryl and Kate! Kate made me a gorgeous poster for this fic which sadly I can't transfer from Live Journal.

Kim Jaejoong sat in his car, engine idling as he stared at the building in front of him with unseeing eyes. The bank fit every stereotype of a financial institution - tall, imposing, bustling. So devoid of warmth, he could feel it in his bones.  
  
Or maybe he had brought the chill with him when he left home.  
  
He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to have to come face-to-face with a chapter of his life he wanted to keep closed forever. A past he had walked away from, nearly crippled and fighting to stay on his feet. Only to come back now on bended knees….  
  
He only realized his jaw was clenched tight when it started to hurt. Didn’t matter, his pride hurt worse.  
  
The twenty-six-year-old glanced into the mirror, a final check to see his disguise was perfect, the cloak of a famous celebrity wrapped tightly around his bones. He prayed it would be enough. He needed his mask to last the length of the meeting. He needed to be Kim Jaejoong, famous musical actor and not Kim Jaejoong, man turned desperate.  
  
 _Show time_ , he thought grimly, getting out of the car and walking into the building like he owned it.  
  
A long time ago, when he’d first stepped into the spot-light, reluctant and afraid, the man who would soon grow to be a mentor and the most important person in his life, had said “ _Jaejoong, there’s just one trick. Fake it till you make it.”_ It was a piece of advice that had served him well.  
  
No-one stopped him, though he could feel the intense buzz of speculation and recognition that followed. Stepping into the elevator that would take him to the top-most floor, he hid a wry smile. It was always useful when people never looked beyond an image.  
  
In any other circumstances, he would have filed away the incident as a story with which to regale JooJin but right now, it was all he could do to keep from throwing up. It was his first time on a stage all over again, unforgiving lights, a million eyes and bile in his stomach.  
  
It had taken him weeks to make the decision to come here, clutching at straws like a drowning man, before admitting defeat. But now that he was here, failure was not an option he would entertain.  
  
But when were things ever that simple?  
  
“What can I do for you?” The tone was polite, the brown eyes calm but Jaejoong was not fooled in the least by the mild-mannered man watching him expressionlessly.  His desk sat effectively between Jaejoong and the closed wooden doors beyond.  
  
“I’m here to see Mr. Park,” he said firmly and with authority, yet not really expecting to get anywhere.  
  
There was the tiniest lift of a delicately shaped eye-brow. “Do you have an appointment?”  
  
Jaejoong bit the inside of his cheek. It was obvious to both what the answer to that was.  
“I need to see him….on a matter of great urgency.”  
  
On the scale of one to ten of lines that worked, this was surely a negative twenty-five. And he had thought he was prepared.  
  
Jaejoong glanced at the stylized name plate on the desk. _Kim Junsu._  
  
“Junsu-shi, I know this is highly irregular,” he said, trying to appeal to the man’s good nature and injecting a note of entreaty into his voice, “but it’s absolutely vital I meet with him today. Now.”  
  
Apparently Kim Junsu had been hired for his ability to resist charm, judging by how little effect it had.  
  
“Mr. Park is a very busy man, as I’m sure you realize. If you’d like to schedule an appointment for a time when you are both available, I can arrange that.” He ended with a note of finality, glancing back towards the sheaf of papers on his desk in a not-so-subtle hint.  
  
Okay, this was not going well at all. Jaejoong suppressed the urge to lick his lips nervously.  
  
 _Never show the slightest trace of fear. They’ll be on you like a pack of rabid dogs._  
  
“Please,” he said simply, dropping all pretence of control, “I…Just tell him I am here. He’ll see me.”  
  
 _I think_ , he added mentally, with a trace of bitterness. Who knew what sort of welcome he would get? He’d been surprised before.  
  
He did not give his name. He had the feeling Kim Junsu was well aware of it.  
  
After a long moment, during which Jaejoong feared he would refuse, Junsu turned to the phone and hit the intercom button.  
  
“Sir, Kim Jaejoong-shi here to see you.” Jaejoong tried to time the pause that followed by the beat of his frantically racing heart. “Certainly, Sir.”  
  
 _He said no, oh God_ –  
  
“Mr. Park will see you now,” Junsu said, expression carefully blank.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Jaejoong walked quickly over to the thick doors and pushed them open, unwilling to give himself any time in which to think. _Or flee_ , the voice in his head said cynically.  
  
Inside, it was exactly what he would have pictured, if he had thought about it. Spacious, elegantly furnished, the kind of under-stated class that whispered of money.  
  
Interior decoration was, however, the last thing on Jaejoong’s mind, his entire attention focused on the large impressive desk carved in rich mahogany and the man seated behind with his eyes on him.  
  
“Yoochun,” Jaejoong said quietly. It seemed silly to address someone one has slept with in the past as _Mr._ or – _shi,_ even if they were meeting for the first time in eight years. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”  
  
“Jaejoong,” Yoochun inclined his head in greeting, face impassive. “No notice, you mean. But please, have a seat.”  
  
Jaejoong was glad to comply, his knees feeling like water.  
  
“Can my assistant get you something to drink?” Yoochun asked politely and Jaejoong shook his head silently, fingers curling into his thighs under the desk.  
  
Small talk with an ex-lover was always fraught with awkwardness and Jaejoong was relieved Yoochun chose not to initiate any. He didn’t think he could bear a blithe _“Long time no see.”_  
  
Instead he sat in the unbroken silence, eyes roaming the face of a man who was a stranger to him. It was Yoochun, and yet, not Yoochun. The Yoochun he had met at eighteen had been a boy, twenty-one but going on eighty-six, whispering a poet’s fancies, a dreamer encased in skin he couldn’t shed.  
  
The boy he had known had eyes brimming with mischief and ready laughter, as he stole kisses that tasted of forever.  
  
…. _the boy he had thought he’d known_ , Jaejoong mentally corrected himself.  
  
Perhaps that boy had never existed. Perhaps he had learned to shed his skin, Jaejoong’s flesh a casualty as it peeled.  
  
There was certainly no trace of that boy in the man before him. The hair was shorter, cut closer to the head, more suited to the world he belonged to now than the long locks he had sported with careless disregard. He wore his twenty-nine years with the ease and confidence of someone born to wealth and accustomed to power. The eyes gave nothing away and there was a subtle, yet unmistakable air of cold ruthlessness, more tangible than the designer suit. This was a man hardened by life.  
  
This was the man whose help Jaejoong needed.  
  
And who was watching him in silence, waiting for him to begin.  
  
Jaejoong drew a deep breath and went for broke.  
  
“I came to ask you…for a favor,” he said, forcing the words past his throat. “From the bank, really. But then,” he tried to keep any bitterness out of his voice, “you _are_ the bank.”  
  
“A favor…” Yoochun repeated slowly, thoughtfully. “How…big…is this favor?”  
  
Against all efforts, Jaejoong felt his face flush, the sense of humiliation crippling.  
  
But he forced himself to continue. “Eighty million dollars,” he stated baldly. There was no way to make the sum of money seem reasonable or dull the shame of this moment so he simply didn’t try.  
  
Yoochun’s eye-brows threatened to disappear into his hairline. “That is a lot of money.”  
  
“I know,” Jaejoong spoke quickly, “but I don’t actually need the money. That is, I just need the bank to extend the time limit on the loan given to JJ Corporation. As you know-” he struggled to keep his face neutral, “the bank intends to seize all assets next week.”  
  
Yoochun’s face wore an expression he couldn’t decipher.  “JJ Corporation,” he said softly. “Of course.”  
  
Jaejoong ignored that. He knew what the industry and the gossip rags said about him and the owner of the biggest media conglomerate in South Korea. He didn’t care. It was no-one’s business but his.  
  
It especially was not Yoochun’s business, so he merely said “If the bank can just give us – the company – more time to –“  
  
“Somehow come up with eighty million? When the company has been failing for three years? And was barely breaking even for the four years before that?”  
  
The sardonic note in his voice might sting but Jaejoong could not refute the truth in what he was saying.  
  
“We –“ he tried to sound sure, “there are plans for changes-“  
  
“Changes worth eighty million?” Yoochun asked coolly.  
  
Jaejoong gritted his teeth.  
  
Walking out right now would have given him a world of satisfaction but the last thing he could afford was pride.  
  
“We could make it. All we need is another chance….”  
  
“We…” Yoochun repeated thoughtfully.  
  
Jaejoong groaned silently. It was a habit, a bad habit he had acquired over the years of acting as sound-board for JooJin’s plans, discussions that went on all evening and frequently running into the night as the older man shared his excitement and love and dreams for the company’s future.  
  
“I’ve gone over the files and I didn’t see anything that listed you as an…invested party.” It was neither question nor statement. It was a dig and not a very subtle one at that.  
  
“Let us say I’m an _interested_ party,” Jaejoong said, unruffled. And the President of the most powerful bank in Korea could make what he wanted of that, as far as Jaejoong was concerned.  
  
A minute went by and then Yoochun leaned back in the leather chair, manner casual. _Casual like a panther_ , Jaejoong thought, skin tightening in tension.  
  
“And?” he asked softly. “What does the Bank stand to gain?”  
  
Jaejoong swallowed. “A stake in the company shares….”  
  
“A company that’s practically bankrupt? I don’t think so,” Yoochun said in lazy amusement.  
  
“But if it bounces back, it’ll be worth millions…!”  
  
Yoochun looked unimpressed. “A very operative ‘If.’ In essence, you’re asking for a lot of money in exchange for dubious returns. There is simply no way the board will ever be convinced to take such a large risk.”  
  
“I’m sure, given time-“ Jaejoong started, frustrated, but Yoochun was already shaking his head.  
  
“Not good enough,” he stated calmly.  
  
Jaejoong tried to think past the dread taking root inside him.  
  
“I…I can take on more projects and CFs. The signing amounts-”  
  
“Not good enough.”  
  
Jaejoong was not a fool. It was time for all cards on the table.  
  
“Alright,” he said, trying not to let the other man see how desperate he was. “What do you want?”  
  
Because he knew that it was Yoochun’s decision that counted, not that of any board.  
  
An unreadable look came into the young banker’s eyes. It was gone in an instant but it made something inside Jaejoong clench with a growing sense of premonition.  
  
“You.”


	2. Chapter 2

For a second, it didn’t quite sink in that it was meant to be a complete sentence.

“E-excuse me?”

“I want you, Kim Jaejoong.” Yoochun could not have been calmer if he had been discussing the weather. “An extension on a loan of eighty million dollars for one year of your time.”

Jaejoong stared, speechless, mind utterly blank.

This could not be real. He couldn’t actually be sitting in his ex-lover’s office being propositioned for eighty million.

Slowly his incredulity was replaced by a burning rage.

“If you think it’s funny to mock someone when-“ Jaejoong gritted, teeth clenched.

“A sum as large as that is no joking matter,” Yoochun interrupted in a cold tone.

“You’re crazy,” Jaejoong breathed. His fingers were claws, digging into his legs so hard they were probably drawing blood and he was only dimly aware of the way his body was trembling.

Yoochun simply shrugged. “Eighty million for one year of being exclusive to me. It’s not a bad deal.”

If he had thought he had drained the dregs of humiliation coming here to ask for this man’s help, it was nothing compared to the shame he felt now. Shame he had no reason to feel.

“You-you!” It was hard to even get words past his throat. “I-“

_How dare you?_   
_All your money could never buy me._   
_Who do you think you are?_   
_I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you_

All would be satisfying to scream in the suffocating confines of the room, but the last more than any.

Instead, he drew on an inner strength he didn’t know he possessed to say sneeringly, “Always about the money, aren’t you, Yoochun?”

Yoochun simply shrugged. “Pot kettle, Jae. Isn’t that why you are here? Money?”

“At least I’m trying to help a friend, not using my wealth to put a price on someone! And don’t call me Jae!”

“You don’t have to say yes, _Jae_. You’re free to turn my offer down.”

“Damn you,” Jaejoong choked out. “ _Damn you_! You know I can’t.”

“How _touching_.” The words were whisper-soft, the derision in his gaze flaying at Jaejoong’s flesh.

It was too much. He couldn’t breathe, he had to get out. He lurched out of the chair, desperate for escape but was stopped cold by Yoochun’s next words.

“If you walk out now, you won’t get another chance. It’s now or never, Jae.”

“That’s not fair,” Jaejoong whispered.

“Life, I believe it’s called,” Yoochun said, looking bored.

Jaejoong sat down again, mostly because his legs felt too weak to support him. And…

The truth, the bitter truth he was loathe to admit even to himself was, he couldn’t afford to leave. Not if it meant JJ Corporation had a chance.

Not if it meant JooJin could be saved.

He sat there, wrestling with his pride, tormented by the decision he knew he would make, yet unable to bring himself to give the reply they both knew was inevitable. All the time conscious of Yoochun’s steady gaze on him.

“Such anguish,” he mocked, breaking the stifling silence. “But it’s really not that much different from what you are doing now, is it? Just stated more explicitly perhaps, without pretty words to sugar-coat it.”

Jaejoong’s body went rigid, head lifting to shoot Yoochun a look of pure hate.

_How dare you! We don’t have that sort of relationship! JooJin wouldn’t dream of treating me like an object!_

Except…

Except a voice inside his head was whispering, _he doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need to know anything. You need insurance if you are to protect yourself from this man._

_A year from now, when you walk away, JooJin will make the perfect crutch._

Slowly he closed his mouth, swallowing down the words he’d been prepared to fling at the other man’s face. “It is completely different,” he said instead, with quiet venom. “I don’t hate _him_.”

Yoochun gave a low, sardonic laugh.

“Of course you don’t hate him, you owe him your career and current life-style. For all his financial troubles, he has certainly not stinted any expense to keep you happy. Or are you going to tell me your numerous luxury cars were all paid for by you?”

Jaejoong reddened. It was true that JooJin liked to give him expensive gifts and once he had seen how happy it made the older man, Jaejoong had learned to accept them with grace even when he thought them wasteful. In light of the recent revelations about JJ Corporation’s difficulties however, he sorely wished he had been more firm about refusing. He was not someone given to flaunting status symbols and certainly not at the cost of JooJin’s own financial security. If he’d had even an inkling of what had been going on…..

Not that there was the slightest chance of convincing Yoochun, of course.

He deliberately shot Yoochun a coy look from under his lashes. “Why, Yoochun, you’ve been keeping up with my news. How flattering.”

Yoochun’s lips thinned most satisfyingly. “Hard to miss with it splattered across the gossip pages for everyone to read.”

This was, no doubt, true. Jaejoong himself found it hard to avoid mention of Yoochun in the papers. The exploits of the city’s richest eligible bachelor were as well-publicized as Jaejoong’s own private life.

Still, it felt childishly good to score one off.

“So what’s it going to be, Jae?” Yoochun reminded quietly.

Jaejoong’s jaw tightened. His pride was stinging, a sting he could feel behind his eyelids, battering at his self-control.

But damned if he was going to let Yoochun destroy him and walk away again. Damned if he was going to let history repeat itself.

This deal was about to get a lot more expensive than Yoochun imagined.

And he had a year to plan his revenge.

It was the only thing that allowed him to finally say calmly, “Fine, but I have terms of my own.”

A well-shaped eye-brow lifted. “You seem confused about our positions.”

“No,” Jaejoong said bitterly, “I’m well aware of it but if you think I’ll hand over one entire year of my life without stipulations, you’re out of your mind.”

Yoochun considered. “Fair enough,” he shrugged finally.

“If...If I break the...this,” he bit his lip, searching for words.

“Arrangement,” Yoochun supplied, looking faintly amused.

Jaejoong glared. “This ridiculous idea of yours. If I break it…”

“The extension on the loan ends the minute you walk away.” Yoochun’s tone dropped to arctic temperatures.

_Okay, wow, way to not hold a grudge. Vindictive bastard._

“Fine, and if _you_ break it, all terms of the loan stay as is. JJ Corporation will not suffer for it.”

Yoochun shrugged again. “Okay.”

Jaejoong hid his triumph. It bothered him a bit how readily Yoochun yielded to his condition, it said a great deal about his commitment towards their ‘arrangement’. But Jaejoong told himself it didn’t matter.

All he had to do was drive Yoochun to the end of his rope. Get him to renege on their deal and Jaejoong would be released from this ridiculous bargain they had struck.

The thought of making Yoochun suffer made this whole nightmare just a little easier to bear.

“I have to be able to work. I’m still going to accept projects-“

“I’m not going to interfere in your professional life,” Yoochun cut in.

This time, Jaejoong could not conceal his relief. This was going to be easy.

If he took on a lot of projects and may be even accepted some of those lame drama scripts being pushed at him every week, he would not have much spare time now, would he?

“Is that all?”

Jaejoong thought rapidly. “No monthly payments,” he said firmly, ignoring the way Yoochun’s eye-brow rose. “And...and interest rate to remain the same.”

A minute passed where Yoochun said nothing but merely looked amused and Jaejoong stared back defiantly.

“A nominal increase in the rate of interest, shall we say?”

Jaejoong narrowed his eyes. “How nominal?”

“Zero point two percent?”

He slowly nodded. It was more than fair and truth be told, he had not really thought Yoochun would give in so easily.

“So,” Yoochun said deliberately, and Jaejoong had the uneasy feeling he was a mouse being toyed with by a cat. “I extend the loan for two years, no monthly minimum, a zero point two percent increase only to the current interest rate, and since the terms are more than generous…” He paused.

Jaejoong felt his skin prickle in another premonition. Yoochun looked far too satisfied for this to bode well.

Hooded eyes met a pair of nervous ones. “You move in,” he completed softly.

“Forget it.”

The refusal was on his lips before he had even thought about it.

There was no way- He could not-

No.

Just- no.

“Again, let me remind you that you are in no position to call any of the shots. I’m being extremely indulgent here.”

“I can’t- You can’t-“ Jaejoong could not stop stammering, the mere thought of living in close proximity to Yoochun _every day for a whole year_ throwing his body and mind into chaos. “I live with JooJin, I can’t move out-“

“And I don’t share.” Yoochun’s expression was flinty.

Jaejoong flushed a deep red at the implication, as much with rage as with embarrassment.

“That…is none of your business. I’ve already agreed to the deal-“

“Which was that you would be exclusive to me.”

“I-I will…I would not-“ He broke off, frantically trying to think of a way to convince Yoochun without destroying the charade of being JooJin’s lover.

“So you say,” Yoochun said grimly, “but I’d like to make sure of that.”

“But-!”

“Jaejoong.” The cold tone brooked no arguments. “For the amount of money you are costing me, the only thing you say when I say jump is how high.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re home,” JooJin smiled at Jaejoong as the latter walked into the mansion. “Welcome home.”

Jaejoong just smiled mechanically at the older man, still dazed and reeling from the events of the past several hours.

“What’s wrong?” JooJin asked sharply, eyes narrowing at he took in the other’s extreme pallor.

Jaejoong tried for a normal tone. He was an actor, damn it, he could do this. “Nothing, it’s just been a very tiring–"

“Bullshit,” JooJin said bluntly. “I want to know what happened and I want the truth.”

So much for a normal tone. Jaejoong choked back a hysterical laugh. The truth? JooJin was the last person he could share the truth with.

And what could he say, for God’s sake? That he signed himself away for money?

 _Literally_ signed himself away, because Yoochun had insisted on a written contract. Immediately.

With panicked visions of a team of lawyers and as many potential leaks to the press going through his mind, Jaejoong had protested vigorously against a contract but in the end he had been forced to give in. He did not know if it made him feel better or worse that Kim Junsu had been brought in to do the honors. And how the man had remained expressionless through the entire farce still baffled Jaejoong.

He shivered at the memory of something dark and dangerous in Yoochun’s eyes when he had put the pen down. “Pleasure doing business,” he had said and his voice had been taunting.

“Jaejoongie?” JooJin said in sharp concern, breaking into his thoughts and Jaejoong tried to get himself under control.

“Oh, nothing, just…”

Just what? He searched for something to say. A partial truth seemed inevitable, at any rate. His best friend and mentor would have to be told his company had been saved right on the brink of collapse.

“I had a meeting with Yoochun today,” he said slowly.

“Yoochun?”

“Park Yoochun. My….ex-“ He stopped. What had they been? Not boyfriends, certainly not lovers as he had thought. A summer fling.

But he found he didn’t need to add anything else as JooJin’s gaze sharpened.

“Oh.”

Jaejoong knew his friend was remembering the times Yoochun had made a sudden appearance at the same event they were attending. As a rule, JooJin and he socialized rarely and even then, only under duress. They were both extreme loners, content with just each other and their books for company. So these accidental meetings had been few and far between. Each time however, the mere mention of Yoochun’s presence had caused Jaejoong to take panicked flight, usually pleading a sudden headache. The older man had probably put two and two together and come up with the whole sorry tale.

But to Jaejoong’s intense relief, he had never pried for details. It was this mutual respect and regard for the other’s privacy that made their attachment so strong. And regardless of how society construed it, that was all it was. A deep affection neither felt the need to give a name to.

“Why were you meeting him today, Jaejoong?” JooJin asked quietly and judgment sounded in his tone. He knew who Park Yoochun was, everyone knew who Park Yoochun was.

“I….”Jaejoong swallowed. “Oh, alright! I had gone to ask him about the loan-“

“Jaejoongie,” JooJin said with reproof but Jaejoong plunged on, ignoring the interruption.

“And it’s a good thing too, JooJin! No, listen! He-he agreed to extend the loan…for my sake,” the fiction suffused his face with a wash of color. “He-he wants us to try again, start over from-from…” He stopped, feeling ill. He had not lied to JooJin before. Kept things, maybe, but never lied out-right. And the fact that he was now forced to do so made him hate Yoochun even more. “So…you see, it all worked out,” he ended lamely and tried not to meet the other’s narrowed eyes.

“Jaejoongie, he doesn’t need to extend the loan to start over with you. The two have nothing to do with each other. It was my own financial mistakes-“

“It’s _not_ your financial mistakes,” Jaejoong protested fiercely.

It really was not. JJ Corporation was the unfortunate victim of its times. In an era of cheap gimmicks and sensationalism, where real values and morals were slowly losing out to an obsessive need for instant gratification, where ‘sex sells’ was the law of the land and journalistic integrity a joke, the high ideals of the owner and publisher of JJ Corporation were sadly out of place. An unwillingness to compromise on his principles meant he was also out of business.

“It’s not your fault,” he repeated, “and he wanted to, once he saw how important this was to me. How important you are to me. He hadn’t realized we were…” Belatedly, Jaejoong saw he had slipped up.

Just like the society pages were full of Park Yoochun, so too was it agog about the odd relationship existing between the fifty-seven-year-old business moghul and the much younger, very beautiful actor-singer. There was no way JooJin would believe Yoochun had been ignorant of the gossip surrounding them.

Frantically trying to unknot the tangled web of his own making, he said “Um, he believed the rumors.” That much, at least, was true. “All these years, he believed it. Until today. When we talked things over. So he wants to help us, make amends…” _Ha_! the voice in his head said snidely. Jaejoong ignored it. “JooJin, please let him do this. For my sake.”

“Jaejoong,” JooJin looked frustrated. “I can’t take the loan extension. Surely you see that. If it had been a business deal, then yes. But not if it’s based on personal reasons.”

_Oh, if only he knew._

“Don’t worry,” he said wryly, in irony he knew his friend would miss. “This is business through and through.”

“JooJin,” Jaejoong spoke gently, moving to crouch down in front of his chair and taking his friend’s hands in his. He wanted to spare the older man’s pride, he loved him too much not to. “This is a business deal. He’s not making a gift of eighty million. He’s only extending the loan for a fixed period of two years, with an increase in the monthly interest rate, so you see, it’s a sound business decision and not only a personal one. Please, _please_ let him do this for you. You once told me never to let opportunities slip away. Don’t make me quote that back at you now,” he teased, coaxing a reluctant smile from the other man.

“No,” Jaejoong said more firmly when the other would have spoken, ignoring the unhappy expression adding to the lines on a face he held dear. Lines that had slowly etched themselves in the course of a long fight for his company’s survival. “I insist on getting my way in this, JooJin.”

He said nothing about moving out because….

That could wait until tomorrow. Until he got accustomed to the idea himself.

JooJin gave a long sigh. “Well, looks like I owe your boyfriend big. I’d like to than-”

“ _No!_ ” Jaejoong blurted.

“Why ever not?” JooJin looked very surprised. “Good God, he’s giving me and my company a new lease on life, I have to thank the man.”

Jaejoong could feel the mother of all headaches coming on. How could he explain to JooJin that, far from wanting to be thanked, Yoochun would probably call the whole thing off if he saw JooJin face-to-face? Especially as the misunderstandings were now supposed to be a thing of the past. How to explain that his supposed boyfriend had forbidden all contact with the older man for the entire period of the contract?

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Jaejoong pleaded softly. “It’s just been a really big day.”

“Of course, Jaejoongie,” JooJin said instantly, “and…thank you. If it weren’t for you-“

“Hush!” Jaejoong admonished, reaching out to cup JooJin’s mouth closed. “How much do you think you’ve done for me over the years-“

JooJin laughed. “Alright, alright. Let’s not start counting, especially since you’re tired and I have the feeling I’d win anyway.” He pressed an affectionate kiss to the top of the younger man’s head.

“Hmph, and since you’re an old man, I’ll let you keep on thinking that!” Jaejoong teased as he got to his feet, grateful he had deflected the danger for now. He would not be able to avoid it for much longer, he knew, but even a moment’s respite was welcome after the traumatizing events of the day.

Suddenly he was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to escape to the haven of his room. He refused to give in to the urge to cry, deciding that what he needed most was sleep. Preferably a year’s worth.

Now if only he could keep the memories of his eighteenth summer at bay.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assault/attempted rape. Minimal description but I strongly urge you to read with caution (or not at all) if these topics act as triggers for you.

_Eight years ago_

 

At eighteen, only one thing interested Jaejoong.

It was an old, unused piano that sat in the corner of the town’s only bar, a peculiar addition to the décor, considering their population numbered five thousand and the local crowd did not run to the refined.

But when questioned about it, the owner and proprietor Myungsoo would retort that he was a man of culture, unlike the rest of them who had never been to Seoul. Apparently, living there for a few years in his distant wanderer youth had been an experience whose magic never dulled.

His listeners just laughed good-humoredly because in a town that small, you put up with idiosyncrasies, like bragging and pretentious grand pianos stained white from the condensation of countless beer mugs.

It drew Jaejoong like a flame.

Having become aware of the piano’s existence at age sixteen by sheer accident, it had become established tradition for him to try to sneak in everyday, usually before noon when business was at its slowest. And it was tradition for Myungsoo to throw him out, claiming he had no intention of being shut down for having a minor under his roof. After Jaejoong’s eighteenth birthday, he had switched to complaining about non-buying customers taking up space.

Sometimes though, he would sigh and pretend he did not see Jaejoong fumbling on the keys for hours, attempting to coax from it the notes he heard inside his  
head.

“What did I tell you last time?” Myungsoo asked sternly as Jaejoong poked his head around the door on a day when the sun’s heat ensured the bar would have lots of customers later on in the evening.

“No customers here for me to chase away!” Jaejoong retaliated, sticking his tongue out at him before cautiously making his way in. When no wadded-up tissues came flying his way, he knew it was safe.

“Look again, brat,” Myungsoo scoffed, scrubbing the counter in a futile attempt to make it gleam.

Jaejoong did.

Then blushed as he realized there was indeed a strange boy sitting in the far corner. A boy who was currently watching him with interest.

Jaejoong hastily turned away. The brief glimpse had left him with a vivid impression of a warm gaze and an engaging smile.

He went up to the piano, then sat there awkwardly, hyper aware of those eyes trained on him. He did not really want to embarrass himself in front of this unknown boy but he would look even more foolish if he sat there doing nothing. So he tentatively hit a few keys, a barely-there tune that was already a vast improvement from the pure noise of before.

When someone slid onto the bench next to him, Jaejoong felt his breath hitch. He wanted desperately to examine the stranger’s face but instead, stared in wonder at the slender fingers creating magic on the keys and inside his head, nerve endings buzzing with things he had never felt before.

He was not conscious of his soft sigh when the music stopped.

“I’m Yoochun,” the boy said at last, fingers still tapping lightly at random keys. He spoke softly, in a voice like molten chocolate.

“Jaejoong,” he breathed, “are you new?”

Are you staying, he meant.

 

He was.

 

On the fifth day of listening to Yoochun’s piano, Jaejoong pouted at it. “Why won’t it do that for me?”

Yoochun laughed, the kind of laugh that wrapped itself around Jaejoong like sunshine, lifting his shoulder in a small shrug. “I’ve been practicing longer. Also, um, it’s sort of not really tuned? It won’t play right if it’s not properly tuned.”

Jaejoong glared at the piano’s owner reproachfully but Myungsoo only laughed at him.

“Can you fix…ah, tune it?” Jaejoong asked Yoochun hopefully.

“I could try.” He looked at Jaejoong for a long moment, half-smiling, half-serious. “I could teach you,” he added softly, making it a question.

Jaejoong glowed, which was answer enough.

 

Their town was several days’ travel by road from Seoul and mainly an agricultural community, with none of the attractions or conveniences of a large city, so it was odd when strangers visited. It was even odder when they stayed.

Yoochun never said why, beyond a vague explanation about finding himself and Jaejoong did not press the topic.

Yoochun interested him. Interested him in ways that kept him up at night, head filled with afternoon melodies.

Everything about the other boy felt right. From the way he loved to laugh, to the way he impatiently pushed his bangs out of his eyes when it escaped his straggly pony-tail, to the way he understood things Jaejoong had not yet put into words. The warmth of Yoochun’s body pressed against him on the bench during their piano lessons. The way the pit of his stomach felt jumpy and fluttery around him.

Then one day, as the last notes of the piece Yoochun had taught him still lingered in the air, and the sheer happiness of having played it without a single flaw was humming through his blood, Yoochun leaned down and kissed him.

Jaejoong had a brief moment in which to worry about Myungsoo and then he stopped thinking.

Of everything but the magic that was Yoochun, wrapped up in that single press of lips against his.

 

Jaejoong was used to feeling alone. His sole family was one he had become tied to through the bonds of a second marriage. The passing of his mother at age fifteen had left him in the custody of his step-father, a mild man whom Jaejoong felt a vague sort of affection and gratitude for. A deeper bond seemed impossible, they were just too different.

Even when his mother had been alive, it had often seemed to him that she was more bewildered than anything else by the son she had borne. With features more female than male, a face that stopped people in their tracks even as a baby and a soul that felt things on a deeper and more profound scale than normal people, he had been quite outside anything she had experienced in her ordinary life.

Small wonder then, that he fell so hard, so fast, so deep. For the space of a summer, he had _belonged._

 

“Do you have any idea what you are doing?”

Jaejoong turned warily at the hissed words and tried not to sigh. He had just walked up the stairs after an entire day spent with Yoochun, exploring the country-side. He was sweaty, tired but happy, lips almost entirely chapped from countless kisses. And wanting nothing more than a long, hot bath.

“What are you talking about, Hyung?”

Siwon made him uncomfortable. His relationship with his older step-brother was even more awkward than his relationship with their father. Jaejoong had a strong suspicion that Siwon had never approved of his father’s remarriage, if the sometimes peculiar treatment he received from the other was any indication.

Jaejoong had been twelve when his mother’s employer of one year had suddenly become his father. Having no memory of his real one had helped. Siwon, however, had been fifteen. Old enough to resent the hired help taking the place of his mother, especially when she came with a child of her own.

To the outside world, the marriage had probably seemed like a gold-digger’s scheme. An older man, bound to a wheel-chair, with more than enough money to his name and his live-in caretaker. Which made it ironic that his mother had died first, only three years after.

But even at twelve, Jaejoong had seen it for what it was. A marriage of quiet affection, an easing of loneliness. His mother who had struggled for years on her own and a semi-invalid who had nowhere to go. Jaejoong had been happy for them.

“I know you’ve been spending time with that boy.”

Jaejoong felt his heart start to thunder. “So what?” he asked, gripping the banister hard.

He did not know how Siwon had made Yoochun’s acquaintance. Probably the same way Jaejoong had - by pure accident - since Siwon usually preferred to remain closeted in his room. His hyung had as few friends as he did, so it had surprised Jaejoong when he came across him talking to Yoochun outside the bar one day. Siwon had left immediately, barely glancing at him and Jaejoong had suppressed a sigh. It would be nice for them to be on good terms, they were family after all.

Now he watched as Siwon crossed his arms. “If Father knew…”

It was a threat. There was no mistaking his step-brother’s intention.

“I’m not allowed to have friends?” Jaejoong snapped. “And mind your own business.”

He walked away, dread filling him, all too aware of Siwon’s eyes boring into his back. The implications of being found out, especially in a town like theirs…

…were easier to bear than the thought of giving Yoochun up.

 

“I’m expected to take over the family business, you know.” Yoochun plucked idly at the grass at his feet, voice wry. “My path is laid down for me by four generations of Park business acumen.”

What the family business was, Jaejoong did not know, but he could tell it already weighed heavily on those slim shoulders. He had gotten the impression of money, an elite back-ground, violin and piano lessons from childhood hinting at a classical up-bringing. But he never thought to pry, especially as it appeared to be the very thing Yoochun was running from. He was content with the glimpses of himself Yoochun chose to reveal. Besides, it did not feel important. The boy who wielded the piano like it spoke to him, who searched the horizon with a restless gaze, whose silence said more to Jaejoong than someone else’s words – that was the Yoochun he tucked into his heart.

“What would you do if you could do anything?”

“Sit here with you, exactly like this.” The accompanying grin was one Jaejoong was very familiar with now.

“Charmer,” he accused softly, leaning over to kiss him. He could not remember being more content.

 

Or more hungry. Like being starved for someone’s touch - the glide of fingers down his back, into his hair, the losing of breath to another’s mouth, the nip of teeth. The ache. That never left, never eased and only grew - impatient, restless, careless.

It was only the rushing of the inevitable, the first time they made love. In the semi-gloom of someone’s barn, after being caught in a clichéd downpour out in the country-side during an equally clichéd sunset, far from anyplace familiar. Hot, greedy, painful, awkward, _right_.

 

Jaejoong tiptoed up the stairs, biting his lip at every creak of the stairs. It was after midnight and he had only just come home after seeing Yoochun back to the inn he was staying at. He wished he could have spent the night with him but that would excite too much comment. What he shared with Yoochun was too new, too special and Jaejoong wanted to be lost in love a little longer.

He made it to the landing and sighed a little in relief. He was not ready to face his step-father, not when he knew there was no way he would be able to conceal his happiness. Even now, the mere thought of seeing Yoochun tomorrow was causing his lips to curve in helpless delight.

“ _Where have you been_?” The voice came from behind and was like the crack of a whip.

Jaejoong whirled around. “Oh my God, Hyung! You scared me!”

The landing light came on, the sudden glare making him wince.

“ _I said_ , where have you-“

The words came to an abrupt stop and Jaejoong’s eyes made the adjustment to the light just in time to see a look of understanding and knowledge dawn on Siwon’s face. He cringed inwardly. He could well imagine the sight he made and tried to look like he had nothing to hide, nervously running his fingers through his hair. When they left, they had tried to clean up, tried to get all the hay and mud out of fabric and hair, pull their clothes to cover slowly purpling marks but as he watched Siwon’s eyes run all over his body, it suddenly felt like it had not been enough.

“You _slut_.”

It came with such venom, Jaejoong was momentarily paralyzed with shock.

“I should have known. I should have known you would…with that boy... _how dare you?_ You _filthy_ …”

“Stop it.” Jaejoong’s voice was quiet. He was trembling with a mixture of shock, anger and hurt but held himself straight and looked directly into Siwon’s eyes. “Stop it, Hyung.”

If anything, his words seemed to make Siwon angrier. Jaejoong watched as if from far away as his step-brother proceeded to fly into a rage, hurling insults at him in language he had never been exposed to before. It cut deep, like a physical wound and bewildered him because how could love warrant such condemnation? How could anything that felt so right be wrong? And how had he not realized how fractured his relationship with Siwon really was?

“Hyung.” This time it came out stronger. “I’ve told you before, it’s _none_ of your business what I do with Yoochun.”

There was a short-lived silence, broken by a sneering laugh. “Oh, so you think this is true love, do you?” Siwon mocked.

Jaejoong clenched his fists but resisted the urge to say anything, merely staring back defiantly.

An ugly look came into his step-brother’s face. “I see you do. But does _he_? I looked him up on the internet, you know. The Parks have a finger in every pie in the financial world and he’s the only son and heir. Do you really think he sees you as anything more than a convenient body? You are _nothing_ but a plaything! He probably has countless-“

The words were abruptly cut off as Jaejoong’s fist connected with Siwon’s jaw. He didn’t even know where the sudden aggression came from, all he knew was he could not take another second of his step-brother’s senseless rage.

The blow did the barest of damage, Jaejoong never having been one for fights, but it felt extremely satisfying and seemed to stun Siwon into silence.

Jaejoong turned away, intent on getting to his room, vaguely aware of his throbbing hand, more aware of how close to tears he was.

It was a mistake.

He only realized it when he found himself flat on the floor, on his back, with Siwon’s entire weight pressing down on him.

“Wha-what are you-?”

The shock of Siwon's hands tugging at his clothes, sliding under them to grope blindly at skin, held him still for a second, and then he was struggling with every bit of strength he possessed.

“ _Let me_ -umpf.”

Fear surged through his body as Siwon covered his mouth with a hand, preventing the escape of any cries, the pressure hard enough for his teeth to cut the soft inner flesh of his lips, strong enough to cut off air supply. He felt his body go into automatic panic, fighting to draw the necessary breath, bucking to throw off the enormous weight pinning him down.

So great was his terror, he barely processed the words Siwon was feverishly muttering, lips pressed to the base of his neck, collarbone, jaw.

“Jaejoong-nah, Jaejoong-nah, no-one will love you like I do, only me-”

 _I’m going to die_ , Jaejoong thought numbly, as the strength leaked out of him.

“Jaejoong-nah?” The crazed look in Siwon’s eyes cleared a little as he finally registered the fact that the boy under him was slowly suffocating. “Jaejoong!”

The hand lifted abruptly and he found he could breathe again, feeling gradually returning to his limbs as his lungs desperately drew in huge gulps of air.

“Jaejoong-nah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

Jaejoong felt bile rise to his throat as his step-brother cradled his face.

_I have to get away!_

The fear of almost choking him to death seemed to have shaken Siwon badly and he half-lifted himself away, which gave Jaejoong the perfect opening to knee him as hard as he could. Siwon rolled away with a pained groan and Jaejoong scrambled away from him, body trembling uncontrollably from a combination of fear and oxygen deprivation.

“You _freak_!” he threw out, trying to summon enough strength to get upright. “ _Get the hell_ away from me!”

He had scarcely managed to find his feet when Siwon spoke, body still curled in on itself on the floor, voice dead. “You’ll see. You think it is love but it’s your face and body. It drives men crazy. You’ll see.”

Jaejoong stumbled away rapidly, hurrying to the safety of his room on legs that were unsteady.

 

Morning had never seemed so far away. Barricaded inside his room, all Jaejoong wanted was to be in Yoochun’s arms again. It felt like that was the only thing that would fix everything that had gone wrong.

Try as he might, he could not stop shaking, his mind constantly slipping back to Siwon’s words in his ears, Siwon’s hands on his body….

How it had felt to almost die.

He regretted not having a phone of his own to call the inn. He had just never needed one before. There was no one to call, no one who would call him.

When daylight finally arrived, he did not immediately leave his room. He did not dare, in case Siwon was waiting outside it. Instead, he waited until he was sure their father was up and about, knowing Siwon would never attempt anything in broad daylight and especially not in his father’s presence.

And then he fled.

 

By the time he reached the barn, his lungs were burning. It never occurred to him that Yoochun might not be waiting, even though it was two hours past the time they usually met.

It was a different place in the morning, no longer smelling like damp earth, light streaming in through slates and illuminating Yoochun where he leaned against a beam, staring down at the ground.

With a soft cry, he threw himself into Yoochun’s arms, desperate for comfort and felt the other’s arms come around him.

But instead of holding him close, Yoochun merely pushed him away. The rejection was gentle but firm.

Puzzled, Jaejoong looked up at his face and immediately knew something was very, very wrong. This closed-up Yoochun was not one he was familiar with.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, tone urgent, pushing aside his own troubles for the moment.

“Nothing.”

“You look…” He trailed off, distinct worry settling inside him.

“I called my parents this morning. My father has asked me to come home.”

“Oh!” Jaejoong said slowly. “Oh…” No wonder Yoochun looked the way he did.

“What did you tell-?”

“I came to say goodbye-“

It came out simultaneously.

“ _Oh_.” Now Jaejoong was definitely shocked.

Goodbye. What did that mean?

“When-when are you coming back?” The question came out hesitant.

“Coming back? What for?” Yoochun asked in a tone of calm surprise.

Jaejoong just stared at him, bewilderment filling him at how casual the query was. It seemed rather obvious to him.

“Well… me?” he said finally, trying to smile even though there was a sick feeling growing inside him.

“You?” Yoochun repeated and for the first time since meeting him, Jaejoong could not read the look in his eyes, flushing in discomfort as Yoochun studied the fine features with cold calculation.

“So lovely,” he said, but it did not sound like a compliment.

And then he was thrusting something into Jaejoong’s hands.

Jaejoong stared at the three hundred dollars in confusion. “What is this for?”

“What else?” Yoochun raised an eye-brow. “Thanks for the good time.”

It was like the ground beneath his feet was quick sand. “Yoochun,” he said quietly, because if this was some never-ending nightmare he was stuck in, please let him wake up soon.

“Do you want more? What is the going rate in towns like this anyway?”

Perhaps it was not a time for silence, perhaps this was a time for dramatic things, like screaming or crying or a punch to the face, speeches about dignity and self-respect, things he had seen in dramas and movies. But what he had not realized from those carefully scripted scenes was that it was possible to feel your heart splintering into so many shards, the rest of your body felt alien in its numbness.

“I must say I never expected to find such lovely diversion, here of all pla-“

“Get out.”

If he said more, he would throw up. If he tried to leave, his legs would give way, a physical sinking he would feel as keenly as the metaphorical one. And suddenly, it felt important. It felt essential that he not show weakness, the extent of damage his foolish feelings and naivety had brought.

So he only turned away, the very faint hope that this was some sort of horrible joke dying as he listened to Yoochun’s footsteps fade, Siwon’s insidious whisper of “ _You think it is love but it’s your face and body, you’ll see_ ,” ringing in his ears.

 

He left the money there for some lucky person to find, three hundred dollars on the ground where they had fallen from his numb fingers. Then, because he could not think of anything else, he went home and locked himself in his room for the second time in many hours.

Dimly he realized he would have to make plans of some sort, he could not live in a state of fear forever or risk leaving himself open to his step-brother’s attacks again. But for now, he just curled up on his side, hoping the tears he was carrying around with him would fall and give some relief.

 

A day later, the decision was taken out of his hands. Summoned to his step-father’s room, Jaejoong listened numbly as he was asked to leave.

Of course it was couched less directly.

Face pale and never once meeting his eyes, his step-father stumbled through an explanation about how he should explore life outside their town, find something he wanted to do in his life.

But Jaejoong knew.

Siwon had had his revenge, told him all about his gay step-son just like he had threatened, and now he was losing the only place he had to call home.

“I’m sorry, Father.” It hurt terribly to know that, step-father or otherwise, he’d made a stranger of the man over someone who had only seen him as a conquest.

“No, Jaejoong-“

His step-father’s agitated movements quickly moved him past self-pity and blame. “I’ll move- I..I- have wanted to see the world for a while anyway…“

He made no mention of Siwon’s attack because he had no desire to cause the man any further grief. A gay step-son was bad enough, a real son who was a potential rapist would be a shock he would not recover from.

He refused his step-father’s earnest offer to cover his rent and even college fees in any city he wanted.

 _Money again_ , he thought dully. _Solve everything with money_.

In the face of the older man’s continued insistence, he backed away but at dawn, he left home, sneaking away with a few belongings, just a note on his desk and a pittance in his pocket. He knew he would not get very far on that but…

He was _never_ going to take anyone’s money ever again. He would starve before it happened.

Years later, he would wonder if it had been fate that led him to the bar for one last look at the piano. Even though all the associations with it had turned painful, he knew there was nothing else he wanted to say goodbye to.

So he waited, mind blank as he watched daylight break, even his fear of tomorrow reaching him as if through a veil.

When Myuongsoo arrived to open shop, the streets were still empty, a light morning fog hanging over the town. He took one look at Jaejoong’s white face and quietly led him inside.

“I came….I wanted to- I thought…” Jaejoong stumbled to a stop, belatedly realizing the bag-pack on his shoulder would need some explaining.

It was at that moment, as he stood in Myungsoo’s bar and memories of songs and laughter and kisses assailed him, that he felt it all crashing down on him. After a while, it had stopped feeling real but now the past three days came to him with a renewed sense of horror.

His emotions would probably have got the better of him if Myungsoo had not forestalled it by forcing a glass of his strongest alcohol on him. The coughing and spluttering fit caused by the bitter taste served to take the edge off his shattered nerves and by the end of it, he was a little calmer.

The need for tears passed, the fear of the future remained.

How did an eighteen-year-old with no family, home, money or skills survive in the world?

 

Lying in the dark and sleep no nearer, Jaejoong let the memories of his past wash over him. The desperation he had felt at the time was not something he thought would ever leave him, in spite of all his present-day success.

As his eighteen-year-old self had discovered however, guardian angels came in all shapes and sizes.

When he had been most lost, Myungsoo had come to his aid, asking for no explanations and merely handing him an address of a lounge in Seoul owned by a friend. He had even given him ticket fare to get there, gruffly telling the teenager to treat it as a loan.

From nothing, Jaejoong had found himself quite unexpectedly with a job, board above the bar and as good a friend in HyunBin as Myungsoo had ever been.

HyunBin, who had discovered his young runaway worker could sing, who had taken him from behind the bar and put him in front of the mic, who had later introduced him to JooJin in the hopes that Jaejoong’s voice would reach a wider audience than the lounge’s clientele. The business magnate had the contacts, he had the clout. But more, he had a genuine desire to cultivate talent where ever he found it.

JooJin had not disappointed.

And now it was Jaejoong’s turn to not disappoint JooJin. How could he? He owed the man so much more than just his success. He owed him-

Years of practice had taught him to shut the door on certain routes his memory took, firmly, if not easily. He did it now, taking deep, measured breaths in the quiet of his room and reminding himself he had bigger issues to deal with.

Such as a certain Park Yoochun. And the contract that bound him to the man.

He neither had the time to probe old wounds, nor the luxury of trips down memory lane. What he needed was a plan, and soon.

“ _The only thing you say when I say jump is how high._ ”

In the dark, Jaejoong narrowed his eyes.

They would see who jumped through hoops in the next 365 days.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to point out that all the chaps so far (yes, all four T_T) are the events of one day. Chaps 1 and 2 – the deal is struck, Chap 3 – JJ comes home to JooJin, Chap 4 – JJ recollects the past. If it seemed like the story hasn’t progressed much, that’ll be why.
> 
> The use of USD instead of Won throughout the story has some vague, unimportant reasoning behind it which I will not go into. Please do excuse the inaccuracy.


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